


The Great And The Terrible

by Lazy_Sunsets



Series: With Everything that Falls Apart [1]
Category: RWBY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy_Sunsets/pseuds/Lazy_Sunsets
Summary: Oscar fell. Actually, he was shot down, quite literally. Like Icarus with his sun, the farmhand tried to do more than he could handle and was now paying the price.Alone on the crater below Atlas, Oscar has no one but himself and the voice of an immortal wizard to help him and the boy can't stop his mind from wandering.
Relationships: Gingerbread (RWBY), Oscar Pine & Everyone, Oscar Pine & Ruby Rose, Ozpin & Oscar Pine
Series: With Everything that Falls Apart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042812
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	The Great And The Terrible

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning // implied suicide thoughts and panic attacks

It was cold. So painfully cold.

Even with Oz’s aura, Solitas weather was the definition of cruelty and he kinda wanted to have a semblance by now, one that could be of help.

Ren once said that a semblance is an extension of one’s personality so Oscar thought it was only fitting that an empty amalgamation like him was not to wake such power.

So he kept walking.

At least, Oscar thought, I’m not alone anymore.

Which wasn't exactly good, but for sure not as bad as dying alone. Oz would know where to find the cane.

_“Oscar! You’re not gonna die. I assure you we are going back to the others”_

“Yeah, one way or the other”

The fact that Oz didn’t answer was enough for the boy.

So he kept walking.

* * *

Honestly, Oscar didn't know what to do. He was thankful to Oz for waking him up when the boy fell, but he couldn’t help but think that the immortal only did that to preserve his current body. After all, the kid would eventually be just another one of his lives. Another briefing moment soon to be forgotten.

It was weird, when he thought about it, that the moment he felt most in control during the past months was when Oscar accepted he was going to die. When he thought that maybe… if he just fell asleep… he wouldn’t feel the impact. He would not have the need to feel the pain of death again. He was glad to be alone, if only at the last moment.

“Oz, what should I do now? Find shelter here or...?”

_“Well, you didn't fall too far from Mantle. I think it would be better to proceed in that direction for as long as possible. We are likely to find help”_

“It would be bothersome to convince another host, I guess”

_“Oscar-”_

“Don’t. Waste your time.”, the boy hissed, “We have to save them.”

_“I think we should try and convince James now that I’m back”_

“Screw him", Oscar mumbled, "No bootlickers in this house."

He remembered that moment. How that man rejected peace, with a dead cold look in his eyes. Uncaring and monstrous. And before that, the weeks of training with him... the meetings, the conversations... he had been so kind back then. But now, changed beyond recognition. It had been years since Oscar felt that kind of cruelty, he could pinpoint the moment. When that **thing** invaded their house.

No, now is not the time to think of that. “You’ll have time to cry later”, he thought, “for now just keep going”.

For a second though, just for a second, Oscar allowed himself to remember. The boy looked at his gloved hands and saw them as they once were: angry bloody skin missing in patches. Dips into thin new skin that barely covered up what was underneath. Like something skimmed off patches of skin. He still had nightmares of seeing them decay and rot.

But again, this is not the moment to think about that. Oscar was well aware of what Oz planned to do: contact the others, probably hide the fact he came back, and then protect the relics. The Wizard would probably ignore how the boy hated lying, it wasn’t useful.

He looks to the infinite white that is his horizon right now. He feels almost calm staring at it. It’s a long way to Mantle and he has a lot of time to think, not that doing that was a good idea.

He takes a long shuddering breath and right there, a memory rises from the back of his mind. Oscar remembered Ruby standing on the edge of a cliff, armed with her scythe, red cloak fluttering in the wind; defiant even in the face of a giant robot looming over her. When Cordo demanded their surrender, the girl had only hefted her weapon, slammed the shaft of it into the ground, and shouted, “No!” Without hesitation or indecision. Simple and pure resolve. A very small girl against an overwhelming, indomitable force, refusing to turn away.

Despite her uniqueness and her many talents, Ruby was still just a girl, like Oscar thought he once was. If she could keep moving forward, then so could he.

If they were going to win this unwinnable war, then he had to try and face what he was afraid of too.

“I have to survive, at least until Oz takes over. Then I can rest and let this nightmare to the next one”

_“Oscar-”_

“Shut up, I’m not gone yet. Let me think what I want to think”, Oscar felt too tired for fake confidence, “I remember how they looked at me after you were gone, Oz”

_“They were angry, rightfully so. You just happened to be the only one for them to put the blame”_

“That doesn't help, you know? I'm just a 14 year old farmhand, I’m well aware I’m not useful but any of them could’ve at least pretend that it wasn’t better if I died right there. I'm tired of pretending it didn’t affect me. ”

_“Oscar, please-”_

“I’m… not sure how much you saw, but there was a moment before we found Apathy that I was alone outside. And it was so cold. I could hardly breath and for a second… I kinda liked that idea.”

Oscar wanted to recoil in panic at his own words.

Had he meant to say that?

No.

Did he mean it?

Unfortunately. 

_"Oscar, don't say things like that."_

"You're right, I have a role here. I know the shtick, even if no one wants me here."

Oscar felt the tears build up again. He was getting really sick of crying. It felt like Argus all over again.

But then again, Ruby would never give up, not like this. And she was probably his best friend now. She was the one that seemed to truly care about him. Oscar would hate to make her sad.

So he kept walking.

* * *

If he closed his eyes, Oscar could almost imagine he was back at home instead of alone in the cold of Atlas, where people had hated and attacked him for a reason outside of his control.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Ironwood shot him exactly because he made a decision. And suddenly the feeling of fall was there again, his stomach dropped like he had been falling. But no, there he was. _Was he?_ Oscar fell. His thoughts scattered. He was reeling with pain and shock, staring up at the distant platform as it rose further and further away from him, his small hopes and convictions ringing in his ears. He blankly catches sight of Long Memory falling in place beside him, eyelids fluttering as he was gradually overwhelmed with the rush of wind howling around him, this sense of powerful weightlessness, the terrifying conclusion he’d drawn of what awaited him at the bottom. 

The world around him swathed in ash and smoke, a raw, primal chaos creeping through the night. A desperate scream clawed through the air, shadows darted around him. He was at war, the smell of blood was everywhere. He reached for the crown - still there, good - and raised the sword - such a cursed thing - as enemies, humans, attacked one after the other and Grimm watched from a distance. He was the king - was he really? - and needed to finish this as soon as possible. He would not fall today, he **could not** fall today. He had a role to-

 _“Oscar.”_ A familiar, soft voice cuts through his thoughts like a butter knife. Oscar flinches, but doesn’t jump. He didn’t have time for that. He had-

 _“Oscar.”_ Ozpin gently takes control, guiding his hands away from his arms, little crescent shaped wounds where his nails were digging into his skin just a few seconds before, too close to older scars. _“Take a breath.”_ Oscar inhales, the cold evening air knifing through his lungs.

“Take your time.” Ozpin’s voice is gentle, like his aunt when he scraped a knee, or Qrow before Jinn. “You have to breathe, or you’ll have another panic attack.”

“Panic attacks… as if there wasn't enough for me to deal with.”, putting a word to the darkness devouring his senses was strangely… helpful. Like there wasn’t something fundamentally wrong with him.

“If you had a new host…”

“OSCAR!!”

The genuine fear in Ozpin’s voice snaps the boy out of his head. He takes a few steps back, nails piercing the sides of his arms again.

Oscar heard himself mumble out those words again, uncertain and disoriented “I’m just going to be another one of his lives, aren’t I…”

“Of course not,” she said “ you’re your own person…”

Haha, what a joke.

* * *

The crater below Atlas, where Oscar landed, was annoyingly big and climbing its border was not fun **at all.**

There were some Grimm walking around there but the old buildings allowed the boy to hide and avoid most of the conflicts. It would be different, however, when he starts getting closer to Mantle. Tons of Grimm around, military and way more gunshots than Oscar thought he could handle without crying.

They were so close! But maybe that was just his childish belief. Maybe this was always going to fall apart. He gets the sudden and looming sense that Ironwood never really saw Mantle as worth saving at all. 

_“You couldn’t have known,”_ Oz sounds tired _“it’s not your fault.”_

Oscar keeps walking. His feet sinking in the snow. “You weren’t there. You left me.”

What else could he say? The part of him that was strategy, the part of himself that was a headmaster, tried to reassure himself, point out the improvement that has slowly progressed through the days before everything fell apart again. That part tried to make him see that this world was still worth protecting.

The part of Oscar that didn’t bend, the part of dreamlike memories, of swords and crowns told him what to do. He was a child, he needed direction, it didn’t have to be complicated. Just follow the plan.

But Oscar is no headmaster nor is he a king. The part of Oscar that was Oscar, dark earth and green sprouts reaching for the sun, shining dew in the cool morning of a spring day, had the answer all along…

“It’s fine, Oz” he said, almost too softly, “It’s okay to be afraid. I’m glad you’re back.”

He felt the other relax, even smile, and knew everything would be fine. So he kept walking. 


End file.
